Chapter 17
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: A Small Stone Cannot Block the Wave (2)
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Meanwhile, in an abandoned temple of the northern Scardi Empire.
The saintess of the Evil God Cult, Haten Silla, had been clinging to the ancient altar for hours, preparing the ritual.
It was the altar where the whore of the Holy Church, soon to be defiled and corrupted, would be offered as sacrifice.
She drew unholy seals with the blood of a young goat and arranged the cursed relics.
She knew full well that this opportunity would deliver an irreversible fatal blow to the Holy Church.
Thus, the ritual had to proceed flawlessly.
"Mikasus Hirakin, Dias Rejenaira."
⟨ [Unholy Incantation] ⟩
As she uttered the ominous chant and lit the final candle, a man emerged from the shadows opposite her.
"Quite the impressive altar. Good enough to serve as that old man's grave."
His grinning face was scarred with all manner of hideous wounds and inscriptions.
"Haktas. It's our first meeting since the last gathering."
The torturer's sleeves were soaked red, as if he'd just come from indulging in his pastime.
He scanned the fully prepared room.
"If you're putting this much effort into it, you must be damn sure that mercenary you hired can actually kidnap the saintess."
"My plan doesn't inspire much confidence, I take it."
"A little."
His cackling laughter echoed. It was a light sneer.
"Hiring some money-grubbing mercenary who's neither one of our cultists nor a puppet under our curse? You really think that makes sense?"
"Yes."
"Those guys are unreliable. They'll bolt at the first sign of trouble. Why not just do what I suggested—brainwash a few orphans and blow them up?"
Haktas was slyly pushing his own plan again.
The saintess met his suggestion with the same smile.
"The one I hired isn't just any mercenary. She's the sub-master of the Black Hand."
"...What?"
Black Hand.
At the sudden mention of the continent's largest assassin guild in the north, Haktas froze.
"I-Is that for real?"
"Sub-master Shahal. She accepted the contract."
"...This crazy bitch, Haten Silla."
He laughed again.
But this time, it wasn't a sneer—it was pure admiration.
"How the hell did you land a big shot like that? It takes like five years just to get a chance to work with them once."
The Black Hand was treated like a legend in the underworld.
They were terrifying experts who would take on any target short of a king, as long as the contract was valid.
But this job's target was the saintess.
A figure as vital as a king.
In other words, a mission the Black Hand would never accept, no matter what.
"Wouldn't even billions convince them for the Holy Church's saintess?"
"Simple. More money than billions, the right conversation, and..."
She paused for breath, then flashed a sly smile.
"The one piece of information they crave most."
"Huh? Information? What kind?"
"Oh, Haktas. You can't just pry a lady's secrets like that. Even I deserve a little mystery."
From her flawless smile, Haktas realized she'd never spill what it was.
'Information valuable enough for the Black Hand's sub-master to accept a saintess kidnapping...'
What could it be?
No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't guess, so he gave up immediately.
"Ah, whatever. Whatever. I'll hear it when the saintess shows up."
The Black Hand meant the kidnapping was as good as done anyway.
He could learn the secret after their grand plan succeeded.
"Wise man."
He ignored her subtle jab and stretched.
"While that monster handles the job, we just wait, huh? I can't stand it—my whole body aches to hear that bitch Erzena scream."
"Who knows. Word is, that whore screams her lungs out in front of crowds every morning."
She wiggled her fingers like playing an invisible guitar.
"Rock spirit or whatever."
"What the hell's that?"
Haktas's face twisted at the sight.
"Not that. I mean screams crushed under agony and fear."
"Heh heh heh. I know. Calm down and sharpen your knives and hooks. You'll need your skills soon enough."
Haten Silla added that they'd have to carve inscriptions into the sacrificial saintess's body too.
Satisfied with the request, the torturer nodded and turned to the altar.
"Looking forward to it."
At that moment, a cultist flung the door open without knocking.
"Ha-Haten Silla! Haktas! Breaking news!"
"...I told you not to barge in here."
"Sorry! But you both need to hear this!"
The two exchanged glances.
If a lowly cultist was this agitated, it had to involve the Holy Church.
"Much faster than expected."
"Yeah. I figured it'd take at least four more days."
Impressed inwardly by the Crossroad Kingdom's efficiency in processing that massive group in just two days, Haten Silla said,
"Speak."
The cultist shouted with a face drained white.
"The pilgrimage group—the pilgrimage group was denied entry!"
For the first time in years, the smirk vanished from Haktas's face.
Haten Silla stumbled, tripping for the first time in her life.
The meticulously arranged relics crashed to the floor.
"Wh-What? What did you say?"
"What?!"
Regaining her wits, she screamed.
"Th-Then where's the pilgrimage group now!?"
The plains near the border lay silent.
Hundreds of tents and flags fluttered in the wind, but no other sounds could be heard.
Not even early morning risers stepped out for fresh air.
Not the saintess. Not even Mohaim.
"..."
In an empty tent, Mohaim quietly began sharpening his sword on a whetstone.
-Kiiing, kiiing.
The chilling scrape echoed as he deliberately ground the edge, but he continued undeterred.
Each grating sound tormented his ears, dredging up the events from two days ago.
- We welcome the pilgrimage group to the Crossroad Kingdom!
This great crusade was the will of the Lord God Himself, something that absolutely had to come to pass.
'A holy war to eradicate the Evil God Cult from the world.'
It should have proceeded without a hitch, perfectly.
With the entire 1st Paladin Order and the saintess present, failure hadn't even crossed his mind.
Even if obstacles arose, they should have been bulldozed straight through relentlessly.
- Therefore, as I judge...
Who would dare obstruct the Holy Church?
The largest religious order on the continent, the gathering of those who served the Creator.
Even cloaked as a pilgrimage, no one would suspect.
This war would surely happen and end in victory.
It had to.
- I deny entry to the pilgrimage group—no, the crusade army.
Yet who dared to halt them?
"...Central Officer Nathan Kell."
-Kagak!
Sparks flew from the blade.
He'd pushed the whetstone too hard; a flash cracked it right in front of his eyes, splitting it.
"Damn it."
Even his usual mental discipline routine was failing him.
Uncharacteristically curt, he hurled the broken whetstone aside.
Then, the Pope's crystal orb appeared, having watched silently from the side.
- This time, I'm the one disturbing your rest.
"Your Holiness!"
Mohaim startled and dropped to one knee.
"Forgive me. I didn't notice you'd activated the orb..."
- It's fine. My fault for not announcing myself. Sit.
"...Then I shall, if I may."
He sheathed his sword, pulled up a chair, and sat before the orb.
The Pope stared at him for a long moment before speaking.
- You look troubled, Mohaim.
"I apologize for failing Your Holiness's expectations."
- No, how could it be your fault?
No need to specify what—or who.
They both knew.
- Even I didn't expect the Central Officer to make that call.
Mohaim's gaze drifted to the desk.
Piles of documents stamped boldly with [Entry Denied].
Suppressing the urge to shred them, he muttered,
"The saintess was right."
- Hm?
"He's definitely a heretic. How dare he refuse Your Holiness's personal request! Even with Your personal guarantees of reward and safety!"
- Hahaha. Even you now?
The Pope laughed heartily, changing the subject to calm him.
- Speaking of, no word from Erzena via messenger bird. Is something wrong?
"Pardon? Well... we're not sure either. It's been two days since the saintess skipped her morning performance."
- Hm. That's unexpected.
As he said, even Mohaim hadn't foreseen this.
After the Pope's reprimand, Erzena had grown withdrawn.
No—she'd holed up in her tent, lost in thought, not stepping out at all.
Even when the Central Officer declared [Entry Denied], she didn't intervene.
She'd simply retreated quietly to her tent.
When Mohaim checked on her, her only reply was, "I'm fine. I just want to be alone for a bit."
The Pope nodded as if understanding.
- Girls that age have their worries. Give her time. She'll be back to the Erzena we know soon.
"I hope so. Her current state... it's unfamiliar."
- And you, don't get so angry. Remember last time? We nearly had a disaster.
The paladin captain knew exactly which "last time" Escabaor meant.
"...They knew the pilgrimage was coming and stationed the Border Guard at the front lines."
Border Guard.
Ancient golems over 3 meters tall.
The moment the Central Officer declared [Entry Denied], the pilgrimage and paladins reacted furiously.
And when an excited paladin drew his sword, the statue-like figures atop the walls sprang to life.
[Violence toward entry examiner detected. Preparing forcible non-lethal response.]
The 28 golems, each 3 meters tall, drawing 5-meter greatswords to confront the paladin order—it even made Mohaim tense briefly.
He wasn't afraid to fight them.
Mana-powered machines, after all.
Holy-blessed weapons would scatter their mana and shatter them in moments.
But conflict at the border was as grave as wartime.
One drop of blood spilled there could ignite war with the Crossroad Kingdom, dooming the crusade.
So Mohaim swallowed his boiling rage and calmed the paladins and pilgrims.
"They meant to tie our feet here and crush any resistance with the Border Guard."
He spat the words.
"If this isn't what heretics do, then what is! Cowardly, daring to—"
- Mohaim. Every plan has its obstacles. If the world were perfect, where would saints and heroes come from?
But the Pope replied leisurely, as if it were no big deal.
- Don't react strongly to strong refusals. It only worsens things.
"Aren't You angry, Your Holiness? They've defied the Lord's will right in Your face—a heaven-shaking outrage."
- The harder we push, the more desperately they'll resist. Better to... go gently.
Mohaim fell silent.
How to "go gently" from here?
The border gates were sealed after the denial.
Seeing his expression, Escabaor said,
- The Central Officer is a small stone. Insignificant, yet unyielding. I like him. Not sure about heretic yet.
"Your Holiness!"
- But that's if he sides with us.
He raised a hand to halt Mohaim and continued.
- I just finished talking with the Crossroad Kingdom's queen. I promised to bless her personally soon. She'll contact the Foreign Affairs Ministry shortly.
"You mean..."
- No more worries. I guarantee the border reopens in days.
The paladin captain shot to his feet and bowed.
"Thank you, Your Holiness! I will fulfill the Lord's will!"
- You've suffered these two days. You look haggard—heartbreaking.
Meet hardness with gentleness.
The Pope executed it perfectly.
Avoiding direct clashes with obstacles, he contacted higher powers and erased the issue entirely.
- Truth be told, I didn't want this fanfare, but no choice. I had to step in.
"It would've been easier if the Central Officer cooperated."
- Regrettable. If only he were like Gerard—competent and willing to look the other way.
True.
The Central Officer had sharp eyes, piecing together the pilgrimage's true purpose from scattered clues.
But he didn't know when to uphold or bend his principles.
Unlike former border chief Gerard Monarch.
They both knew why he'd been executed.
'Collusion with shadow groups, aiding smuggling and illegal entry.'
Corrupt, yes—but thanks to him, the Church had executed secret missions without suspicion.
Bribes opened borders wide.
- Totally different vibe from Nathan Kell. Useful, but...
He shrugged.
- At least we kept the crusade secret. Petty rumors fade fast.
"What if... the Central Officer exposes the crusade?"
Mohaim voiced his deepest worry; a light laugh returned.
- My word versus an entry examiner's. What will the world believe as truth?
No need to answer.
It was over.
The Pope waved tiredly, as if to end it.
- Rest now. I've talked too much.
"I treasure Your grace."
As Mohaim reached to deactivate the orb,
- Oh, one more thing before you go. You can be honest, right?
Escabaor spoke again.
"Honest... about what?"
The smile faded from his face.
The benevolent, wrinkled visage was gone.
- Choices always have prices. That young man will learn that well now.
"Your Holiness, what do You mean?"
- I formally protested the Central Officer's insult to the Pope and Holy Church at the border. Through diplomatic channels.
Mohaim realized his intent.
When a Crossroad Kingdom entry examiner committed a grave error, punishment was singular.
Escabaor III.
His face reverted to that of the inquisitor before popehood.
- The Central Officer will be executed once we pass through. By the very rules he cherishes.
No one defies the Church and lives.
No matter the reason. No matter how insignificant.
A small stone cannot block the wave.
Never again.